The Life of Simon
by Interspark
Summary: In an Alternate Universe. Simon Petrikovs's final day goes very differently. In an epic clash with the monstrous Lich, the crown is irreparably damaged, and Simon is saved, a split-second before becoming the Ice King forever.
1. Rise of the Lich

The Life of Simon

**This here is my first AU, I hope you all enjoy it. Later chapters will be Alternate versions of some of my earlier fanfics, and later on, some of the episodes. I'd like to credit fellow author Jen Kollic for inspiring this first chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

Two sets of quiet footsteps were the only sound in an otherwise eerily silent world. On the distant horizon, the typical combination of collapsing buildings and unkept plants could be seen, but in all other directions, there was only barren soil. Even ten years after the bomb that ended the Mushroom War was dropped, not a single blade of grass had grown within its colossal blast range. Walking towards the heart of the wasteland, was an old man with pale blue skin, a battered, black suit and long, silver hair that covered his shoulders and face. Simon Petrikov's blue glasses perched on his nose, and his magic crown hung from his belt.

Trudging five steps behind Simon, with her hands in the pockets of her raggedy jeans, was a sixteen-year-old Marceline Abadeer. Marceline's hair was tied into two long pigtails, which hung down to her knees, and a pair of black sunglasses offered her eyes the only possible protection from the rising sun. In her mid-teens, Marceline was within an inch of Simon's height, although when she had last asked him to measure them both, she had accused him of standing on his tiptoes.

"Simon… how much further is it?" Marceline complained.

She had agreed to go on this little expedition with Simon, but she hadn't counted on it taking them so long. Simon had even warned her that it could even take a few days, and assured her that they didn't have to go if she didn't want to, but Marceline had sensed that this was something Simon really wanted to do, for whatever reason.

Marceline was right, of course. Every day of Simon's life since the war, he had lived with worse survivor's guilt than any human being had felt before. For several years he had wished to visit the bombsite, in the vain hope of achieving some closure. It wasn't until Marceline was sixteen, and twice as fit and athletic as himself (without the crown, that is) that he had felt she was ready to go on such a journey with him.

"I don't know Marcy…" Simon said, truthfully.

Simon didn't say anything else, and Marceline tactfully guessed that he didn't want to think about the bomb's blast range. Of course, Marceline could never hope to grasp how bad the Mushroom War had been, but Simon's reactions to when she mentioned it gave her a decent idea.

Simon held a working Geiger Counter in his hand, scanning ahead for radiation. He had no idea what kind of bomb had brought about the end of days. While the explosion did resemble the mushroom cloud of an atomic bomb, there was no weapon Simon had ever heard of that produced those sinister ghoul-like faces from its rising smoke. Simon remembered with a shudder, the last sight he saw before his crown, without even being on his head, covered him in a thick layer of ice with the strength of diamonds. Despite the sinister nature of the bomb, radiation was, of course, still a very real threat. Not to him, thanks to his magic crown, but to Marceline. Apart from the fangs in the corners of her upper jaw and her pointed ears, Simon had never had any reason, in his nine years of knowing her, to believe she was any different from an ordinary, human girl. She grew, she got sick, when she got hurt she healed at a normal rate. Simon was prepared to drop his chance of closure at a moment's notice if he got so much as a click from the antique device in his hands, but from the look of things, he didn't need to worry.

Eventually, Simon stopped, and Marceline almost bumped into him. Just visible, about a mile ahead of them, was a small hill where Simon guessed the bomb had hit. Squinting ahead, Simon noticed a dull, green glow emanating from somewhere behind the hill. A glance at the Geiger Counter confirmed that there was still no radiation, but Simon felt a strong sense of foreboding all the same. He spun around, staring in all directions to make sure the surrounding area was as bare as ever. When he was confident it was, he turned to Marceline and rested his hands reassuringly on her shoulders.

"Marcy, I want you to stay here for a little bit, ok?"

Marceline frowned, she didn't like the sound of that. "If you think it's dangerous, then don't go!" She reasoned, angrily.

"I'm sure it's not! But I just need to be sure."

Marceline stared at Simon accusingly. She hated it when Simon tried to protect her by lying to her. Thankfully, he didn't do it as often as he did when she was a little girl.

"In that case, leave the crown here." Marceline insisted. She didn't really want Simon to approach something potentially dangerous, without his crown, she was just trying to bring his deception to light. But to her surprise, Simon called her bluff.

"Ok!" He said quickly. And with that, Simon pulled the crown off his belt, rested it on the dusty ground, and began walking towards the bombsite.

Marceline stared after him anxiously, and a vision of Simon being cornered by a legion of green, toxic slime monsters filled her head.

"WAIT!" She shouted, before Simon had taken three steps. Reluctantly, she picked up the crown and brought it over to him.

Placing one hand on the crown, Simon kissed Marceline's forehead lovingly. "I promise I won't wear it." He said quietly.

"It doesn't mean anything when you say that…" Marceline replied, holding back a tear.

Simon stayed quiet for a few seconds, ashamed to admit to himself that Marcy was right. It was a promise he had made several times over the years.

Eventually, he said, "You've got your walky-talky?"

Marceline smiled weakly and pulled the small, plastic device from her pocket. Simon produced an identical one. They had once been cheap toys, for children, but Simon had modified them, taping big, long-lasting batteries to the back and attaching them with copper wire, and adapted the antenna to increase their range.

Holding his walky-talky to his ear, Simon started talking in an unconvincing trucker voice. "Testing. Testing. Are you there? Come in, Marceline!"

Marceline smiled reluctantly, and turned on her own. "Hi Simon."

"Now you stay here, and holler if you see anything." Simon said, still talking into the walky-talky, despite their closeness.

Turning off her walky-talky, Marceline's expression became slightly more serious. "Just be careful, ok?"

Simon stepped forwards and hugged Marceline, holding her close to his chest. "I will, sweetheart." He promised her.

With one last look at Marceline, Simon turned around and continued walking. The cold metal of the crown chilled him in more ways than one as he reattached it to his belt. He began to wonder if Marceline was right, and if he _should_ just leave. After all, any danger that made Simon wear the crown was only a risk to Marceline in the long run. He had no idea what the so-called "Ice King" would do to Marceline if Simon was ever to slip away completely.

Simon's footsteps began to slow as he was just fifty paces from the hill, he mulled over the pros and cons of what he was doing. He turned to look at Marceline. She was sitting, cross-legged on the ground, staring the other way at the distant city. Watching Simon walk away from her had proved too daunting for the teenage half-demon.

Eventually, it was Simon's antiquarian curiosity that won him over. With a renewed vigour, brought on by an eagerness to get back to Marceline, Simon sprinted up the hill, and within seconds, discovered that the green glow wasn't coming from behind the hill, but _within_ it.

In the very centre of the hill, was a small pool, barely a few meters in diameter, filled with gently bubbling green liquid. The liquid's consistency and colour made Simon uncomfortably reminiscent of the slime creatures that had terrorized him and Marceline for so long.

"What is it, Simon?" Marceline's muffled voice came from Simon's walky-talky.

Turning around, Simon saw Marceline, barely visible in the distance, looking at him with her walky-talky held up to her ear. Seeing Simon immobile and staring at the ground had made Marceline uneasy.

"I'm not sure Marceline… it just looks like…"

Simon stopped talking. Although at his distance, he didn't see Marceline's eyes widen in terror, he did see her take an instinctive step backwards, and her free hand rise to her mouth in shock.

"Marcy, what is it?" Simon demanded, a split-second before it occurred to him to turn around to see for himself.

But before he did, Marcy raised her walky-talky and screamed, "SIMON, RUN!"

Before Simon had time to turn or run, four things, shaped like boa constrictors but with the consistency of stone, coiled tightly around his chest and lifted him into the air. Turning around as much as he could, Simon froze with terror as he witnessed the creature that had a death grip on him continue emerging from the green pool.

It was a skeleton, one that could have once belonged to a man the size of a house, draped in a green gown that brought to Simon's mind the ceremonial attire donned for ritualistic sacrifices by followers of some of mankind's seedier religions he had studied over the years. Rotten, snow-white flesh hung from its face and draped from its bones like cloth, and pinpricks of green light shone from the black voids in its eye sockets. Atop his head, were two curved goats horns, the likes of which were iconic of the proverbial Beast from Biblical lore.

As it rose further, Simon realised the creature wasn't climbing or swimming, it was _floating_. The ground got further away as the skeletal atrocity floated higher, lifting them into the air. Turning around, Simon's heart was clutched by dread as he saw Marceline sprinting fearlessly towards them.

"MARCELINE! NO!" He screamed.

As Marceline neared, the monster made a hoarse, repetitive wheezing sound. Cringing, Simon realised it was laughing. It raised its free arm and pointed a skeletal finger at Marceline. Fully expecting magic, Simon writhed around furiously, screaming, shaking its shoulder as much as he could and kicking its rib cage, hoping the creature would simply start eating him, convincing Marceline to give up on him and run, and buying her the time to do so.

Oblivious to Simon, the undead beast summoned a green fireball in its hand, which shot from its finger like a bullet. Despite the projectile's speed, Marceline crouched down and tipped her head, dodging it effortlessly. Marceline's speed and reflexes were another thing which gave her away as an overly-exceptional young woman.

Simon's moment of pride was evaporated when he realised the fireball had caused a pale shadow to fall over the ground, like an inkblot.

"Marceline! Behind you!" Simon cried.

Marceline turned to see skeletal hands thrusting from the dirt and clawing at the sky. The skeletons of several ordinary humans pulled themselves from the ground, all of them armed with medieval weaponry, and began to advance on Marceline.

As Simon watched helplessly, he realized the monster clutching him was barely doing anything. The strength of its grip alone told Simon that it could tear Simon and Marceline to ribbons in a matter of seconds. He turned to face the beast and noticed the folds of skin curling up at the sides of its mouth and its teeth bared in a terrible grin, as it watched the skeletons bear down on Marceline. Simon felt enraged as he realised it was playing with them, like a cat with a mouse. He felt the crown being pressed against his hip by the creature's bony fingers, but it made it impossible to retrieve it.

The closest skeleton jabbed at Marceline with a menacing spear. Even as she stepped out of the weapon's path, she made a mental note of how sloppy the skeleton's form was. With one hand, she seized the spear and jabbed the handle through its ribcage and snapping its spine in two as if it were made of plaster. It really should have kept the weapon at its side.

Taking the spear in both hands Marceline, quite literally, swept two more advancing skeletons' feet out from underneath them, then, with the grace of a professional dancer, spun the weapon above her head, decapitating a fourth undead assailant, preparing to strike her with a sword.

Less than two minutes later, Marceline stood on the broken bones of a dozen skeletal soldiers, without even having broken a sweat. As soon as she pulled her spear out of the last one's skull, she looked up and breathed a sigh of relief to see that Simon was still unharmed. With one decisive action, Marceline brought the spear down on her knee, snapping off the pointed head.

"SIMON!" She called up to him, before throwing the jagged shard up for him to catch.

The monster looked between Marceline and Simon. The green sparks in its eyes intensifying, as if it were surprised. Without waiting for it to react, Simon caught the spearhead, spun it around and, with all his strength, drove it directly into the spot between the undead abomination's wrist and forearm. With the sickening sound of cracking bones, the giant skeletal hand broke loose, and it and Simon collapsed to the ground and rolled down the hill.

Marceline wanted to run over and make sure Simon was ok, as he struggled to his hands and knees, but he had taught he better than that, and kept one eye on the monster, still floating above its pool. Of course, if she were to truly follow Simon's instructions, she would be halfway back to the city by now, but Simon couldn't really expect Marceline to abandon him.

Suddenly, without a moment's warning. The terrifying creature shot through the air, directly at Marceline. The young demon's reflexes weren't even a factor, as the monster tore towards her, she stood, petrified, like a rabbit in the headlights. She couldn't even raise the shaft of her spear in defence.

Marceline came within an inch of her life. She could smell the monster's rancid breath when, all of a sudden, a blizzard tore across the dirt, sending the creature flying away from Marceline. The icy bombardment was accompanied by a sound that haunted Marceline's nightmares.

"AAAAAAHAHAHAHAA!" Simon roared, floating unsteadily into the air, his hair elongated and his eyes blank and white. "Buddy, you've messed with the wrong… with the wrong…"

Simon blinked several times and, with a cry of pain, pulled the crown off his head again, sending him falling back to the ground.

"Simon?" Marceline called out, running over to him. She had never seen him transform for such a short period before. Could it be that Simon was developing an immunity to the crown's affect? Marceline had strongly mixed feelings about that, but as it happened, her conclusion couldn't be further from the truth.

As the monster shook off the layer of ice it had been coated with, and began clambering towards them. Simon looked at his crown, and then he did something Marceline had never seen him do in this situation before.

Simon hesitated.

After a second, he put the crown back on, but this time, held it down with one hand while he launched another salvo of icicles with the other. Once the creature had been warded off again, Simon pulled the crown off his head and collapsed to the ground, shivering frantically. His beard and eyes didn't revert.

"Simon? What's wrong with you!?" Marceline pleaded, tearfully.

Simon had always known this day was coming, it just couldn't have come at a worse time. Of all the lies Simon told Marcy, the biggest one of all had always been, "I'm getting better." "I have more control over it now." Every time he put the crown on his head, he felt the strain as his consciousness was pulled away from him, and every time, fighting it got a little bit harder. Just now he had felt him loose himself completely. For a split second, Simon Petrikov had been no more, there had only been the Ice King. But if the Ice King were to walk in this world with Marceline, Simon swore it would be _instead_ of this tyrannical beast, not as well as.

"M…M… Marcy?" Simon stammered.

Marceline dragged Simon to his feet and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Angrily, she kicked the crown as hard as she could, sending it flying well out of Simon's reach.

"Come on Simon… We're getting out of here…" Marceline said, holding back tears.

She tried to make Simon walk with her, but he resisted, and Marceline didn't have the heart to force him.

"Marceline… I need you to promise me something…" Simon whispered.

The monster struggled to its feet, but its joints were struggling with the heavy layer of frost.

"But you don't keep your promises to me!" Marceline cried.

"Well then listen up because I'm going to keep this one…" Simon coughed a haze of icy air from his lungs. "If I come back this time…"

"SIMON!" Marceline begged.

"_IF_ I come back…" Simon repeated. "I promise we'll throw the crown in that pool up there… and we'll leave this place and… and I'll never wear it again."

Simon's eyes swam back into focus for a second and their sincerity told Marceline that he was telling the truth.

"What do you want me to promise?" Marceline asked, quietly.

"Run, Marceline. Just this once. Run, and don't look back!"

With tears running down her face, Marceline threw her arms around Simon and buried her face in his wild hair.

"I love you Simon."

"I love you too Marceline."

Keeping her eyes closed so she didn't see Simon again, Marceline spun around and started to run. Although she didn't look around, she listened hard. For the sound of icy winds? The breaking of bones? The Ice King's maniacal laughter…? But the one thing she never expected to hear was Simon's voice, calling her back.

As Marceline ran, the frost covered beast rose back into the air. Simon stood to attention and the two began to stare each other down. The scene was but a tumbleweed away from being one of the Westerns Simon and Betty used to enjoy together.

Simon made the first move. As he sprinted forwards, he relaxed his mind and stopped resisting the crown's pull. As soon as he did, the crown flew from the dirt and towards Simon's head, but he caught it in his hand as he ran. He couldn't afford to waste a millisecond of the crown's power, he doubted he had much longer than that left.

As Simon ran, the monster followed his example. It flew through the air, sending a jolt of green lightning at Simon from its fingertips as it flew. Fully prepared, Simon lifted the crown, using it as a shield to repel the terrible magic. More powerful forces had tried to destroy the crown before… or so Simon thought. Unbeknown to him, a hefty crack now ran along the crown's central gem, and its glow had begun to flicker.

When Simon and the beast were within a stone's throw of each other, Simon bent his knees and jumped with all his might. He made a fist and sent it hurling at the monster's chest, putting on the crown as he did. Simon's fist began to glow and, by the time it made contact, it was shining like a star.

Simon blacked out.


	2. A Brush With Death

Simon awoke to the sound of gentle sobbing, with something soft pressing down on his chest. He opened his eyes to see that night had fallen. Marceline was kneeling on the ground next to him, her arms folded over his chest and her head bobbing slightly as she wept into them.

Simon groaned slightly as he sat up, making Marceline jump. Marceline looked into Simon's open eyes and her own widened in amazement. Slowly, the shock on her face was replaced by joy. She bore her fangs in a gleeful grin and leapt at Simon, forcefully hugging him.

"Simon! It's you! It's really you!"

Marceline trembled with relief and delight, and didn't let go of Simon's shoulders. Simon was confused by Marceline's reaction. While it had certainly seemed like Simon was done for, it wasn't the first time he'd passed out after using the crown, nor was it the first time he made Marceline take precautions, in case he _did_ loose himself.

Wary of Simon's silence, Marceline leant back so she could look into Simon's eyes again. "It _is_ you… isn't it?" She dared to ask.

Simon returned the hug and stroked Marceline's hair, reassuringly.

"Of course it is, sweetheart. Why on earth wouldn't it be?"

It was Marceline's turn to be surprised. "You don't remember any of it?" Usually, Simon remembered hazy fragments of his actions as the Ice King. "You started flying around in the air, shouting 'It can't end like this!' 'I am eternal!' 'Hashtag Ice King forever!' You had the crown on for, like, ten minutes!"

Simon tried to remember, but none of it was even vaguely familiar. The last thing he could remember was putting on his crown to deal a final blow to…

"The monster!"

Simon jumped to his feet, causing Marceline to collapse clumsily to the ground. He spun around and noticed, next to the hill where he was standing when he blacked out, a giant ice sculpture of the horrific creature. After helping Marceline to her feet, the two of them ran over to it, cautiously slowing down as they approached. When they were close enough, Simon realised it wasn't a sculpture at all. The creature was just covered in an extremely dense layer of ice. Even though it was a reasonably warm night, the ice showed no signs of melting any time soon. The ice covering its eyes glowed a threatening green.

"What is it?" Marceline asked quietly.

"A Lich…" Simon remarked. He had had time to analyze the beast when he was sizing it up before attacking, earlier. "It's the final stage of necromancy… A point where a warlock can use their powers to animate their own… Well… They become really powerful."

"Their own corpse?" Marceline finished, rolling her eyes while still smiling. "You're not gonna scar me with the C-word you know, Simon."

Despite everything he had seen in his long life, Simon had never believed in such fantastical creatures as liches, zombies or vampires, but, as a hardcore realist, he didn't waste time insisting they couldn't be real when one burst out of a pond of goo and lifted him into the air.

"Will it bust out of there?" Marceline asked nervously.

"I don't know… But what do you say we don't stick around to find out?"

Marceline giggled. "Yeah!"

Simon patted the side of his belt, and then looked around his feet.

"Marcy, where's the crown?"

Marceline's eyes shot over to where the crown sat in the dirt, twenty meters from where they stood, and back to Simon. She didn't answer the question.

Smiling, Simon made his way over to it.

"Simon, wait!" Marceline pleaded.

"Don't worry Marceline, I'm just living up to a promise I made." Simon smiled.

Marceline's face lit up. "Really!?" Marceline ran over to Simon and met him at the crown. "What happened to it?" She asked, her confusion at what had happened, temporarily overruling her excitement.

"It's broken…" Simon pointed out. He picked up the crown and turned it, so the moonlight emphasised the large crack down the red gem in the middle. "The Lich must have damaged it. Left just enough shazam for me to finish it off."

"I thought the crown was indestructible." Marceline remarked. She would know. She had tried to destroy the crown on several occasions, after stealing it from Simon while he slept, and never put so much as a scratch on it.

"I guess not…"

As Simon looked at the broken headgear, he realised that the constant chatter of voices in his head was beginning to subside. For the first time in years, his mind was clearing. Simon was confident that if he put the crown on now, it would have no more effect than any other hat in the world, not that he was about to test that theory.

Simon took Marceline's hand and smiled at her. Just as he promised her, the two of them walked toward the pond at the top of the hill. When they got there, Simon held the crown in front of him, within Marceline's reach.

"You wanna do it together?" Simon offered.

Marceline had always been wary of the crown. Despite being inanimate, it was Marceline's own personal bogeyman. Shaking off her uncertainties, Marceline grinned.

"Yeah!"

With both of them holding it, Simon pulled the crown back and forth, counting as he did. "1… 2… 3!"

On three, the crown was hurled forwards into the still bubbling green liquid. It sank slowly. The gold metal and the gems seemed to melt as it did. As the crown was completely submerged, a feeble wisp of icy air coughed out of the sludge.

Simon and Marceline smiled at each other, but cruel reality taunted them both, all the same. From now on they would have to step twice as fast, to avoid situations that would require the crown in the first place. Although Simon would never be distorted and broken, good old-fashioned death awaited them all the more eagerly…

The world had just got a great deal more black and white.

* * *

Later that night, Marceline and Simon slept blissfully in their camp. Their latest campsite was a small clearing in the overgrown park in the heart of the city neighbouring the bombsite. Simon and Marcy's backpacks rested against a tree and the two of them lay peacefully in a makeshift nest of sleeping bags and blankets. While Simon had always been content to zip up his sleeping bag and sleep, Marceline, a somewhat more restless sleeper, elected to lie on top of her unzipped bag, under a small heap of blankets. As usual, this had resulted in Marceline rolling over to Simon in her sleep, and using him as a comfort pillow.

Near the two of them, a campfire smoked gently, under the spit on which they'd cooked that night's dinner- a large rabbit Marceline had killed and skinned herself. It was a skill Marceline had mastered purely through practice, because Simon had downright refused to teach her, which was mostly due to the fact that he was too squeamish to do it himself, except when there was simply no other option.

Simon was experiencing the best night's sleep he had had in over a decade. Free, not only from the nightmare he faced 24/7, of him loosing himself and abandoning Marceline, but also from the mental torment the crown had exercised over him since the moment he put it on. Not even Marceline's loud snoring awoke him, but eventually, something did.

Simon was gently lulled from his pleasant dreams by the sound of a guitar. He lay in his warm sleeping bag, idly enjoying the pleasant music for a couple of minutes, before it dawned on him that there was no reason he should be hearing it. He spun his head round to face the source, not wanting to wake up Marceline until he knew there was danger.

Sitting on a log by the campfire (which had been lit up again), was a humanoid figure. He was dressed in a light cream suit with a matching stetson, and a leather fanny pack rested at his side, hanging from a strap, which reached over his shoulder. The hands with which he played the instrument in his lap were human, albeit devoid of skin or flesh, and under his hat was the menacing skull of a jackal. Although a description of the creature would have sent shivers down the spines of the bravest people, coming face to face with it put a sense of ease in Simon's heart, which he couldn't explain. Also, with no help at all from his life of research and study, Simon knew at a glance, exactly who and what the creature was.

"Death…" Simon breathed.

"Heyy Simon. How've ya been?" Death's voice was deep and charismatic.

Simon eased himself out of his sleeping bag, supporting Marceline's head from inside it as he did, and then gently rested her on the ground. Marceline rolled over and screwed up her face.

"Simon…" She mumbled quietly. "Don't go…"

Simon knelt down and kissed Marceline's cheek. "I'm right here, Marceline. I'm not going anywhere." He whispered reassuringly. Satisfied, Marceline smiled and hugged her blankets closer.

Joining Death at the campfire, Simon asked, "Why are you here? I can't be dead."

Death chuckled. "You know, for near enough ten billion years, every single dead dude has told me just that. In all that time, you're the first one who's actually right."

Simon paused, waiting for Death to answer his question. After a couple of seconds, he prompted him to do so with a shrug.

"Oh right. Well the thing is, a fella don't actually have to be dead for me to take 'em, so long as they got good enough reason to die. It's a loophole, you see? And just now, you had a supernatural force torn from your noggin without too much delicacy. Not many people who could survive a trip like that, and hate to tell you dude, but you ain't gonna be one of them. It's nothing personal."

Simon frowned, it certainly sounded personal.

"Then why are you taking me, if you don't have to?" Simon doubted he could talk his way out of dying, but he was damn well going to try.

"Hey man, I got a quota to meet! You have any idea how long it's been since a human being died?"

"Ten years?" Simon asked, assuming he had been the only human to survive the apocalypse. "You must have been busy during the war."

"Well six, actually, but that's the idea."

Simon shot to his feet. "There were other survivors!?" He exclaimed.

Marceline moaned in protest to whatever Simon's outburst had made her dream about, and rolled over beneath her blankets. Simon sat down and made a mental note to keep his voice down.

"Yeah man, these two guys in Finland got trapped in a bomb shelter before junk went down. Survived for four years and then killed each other over the last can of beans… Sad really."

Simon didn't respond. His head was abuzz with the possibility that every decent bomb shelter on the planet had the potential to contain other human survivors, maybe even children Marceline's age. Of course, that wouldn't mean anything if he allowed Death to take him away from Marceline now.

"But anyway…" Death continued. "Since the war, I have been bored like you wouldn't believe. All the reapers are. There's talk of the individual departments being discontinued and myself being promoted to be in charge of the death of all living things, but that kinda paperwork doesn't just happen, you know? So… in the mean time, I take what I can get, and right now that means you. Sorry Simon."

Before Simon could even stall for time, Death shot to his feet, his guitar disappearing in a puff of purple smoke as he did. He stepped across the fire and plunged his hands into Simon's belly as if he were made of jelly. As Death's hands withdrew from Simon, a blue, transparent doppelganger of Simon began to come out with them, but Death's hands moved slowly, far more so than they did going in. Simon was completely immobilised, and could only watch as Death attempted to tear his soul from his body.

Death's eye sockets narrowed and he grunted, as he seemed to struggle with extracting Simon's essence. Eventually Death stumbled backwards across the campsite, and Simon's soul shot back into his body, like a retracting rubber band. The shock made Simon stumble too, and he tripped backwards on the log he had been sitting on.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me!" Death loudly complained. "This is gonna be Shakespeare all over again! And don't even get me started on that two-timing Lincoln!"

While he was certainly interested to hear what William Shakespeare and Abraham Lincoln had done to annoy death, Simon was more concerned with the issue at hand.

"What happened?" Simon asked, decidedly rattled.

"You ain't dead!" Death angrily pointed out. "You ain't even dying! Hell, man. You _can't_ die!"

"What…?" Simon barely breathed.

"The crown, Simon!" Death prompted Simon to remember. "You destroyed it before it could jank up your rad personality, but you got left with the immortality. Best of both worlds!"

Death's tone made it clear that he wasn't happy for Simon, and Simon didn't feel too great himself, because now a new nightmare filled his head, of him outliving Marceline, and then spending at eternity with the burden of hers and Betty's deaths in his heart.

"Well… congratulations, Simon." Death reluctantly admitted, and with that, he got up and began walking into the trees.

"Wait!" Simon called, quietly. "What if I were to forfeit my immortality? Willingly?"

Death turned around, his eye sockets widened in surprise. "You would do that?"

"Not right now, but say we struck a deal?" Simon offered.

Death cocked his head to one side, displaying his interest.

"You can govern death, and its causes, correct? Not just reap souls when it happens?" Simon guessed, groundlessly.

"You know it." Death confirmed.

"Then here's the deal. You ensure that Marceline lives a long life, and that nothing but old age finishes her off…" Simon shuddered at the thought. "And the day that happens. No. The _second_ that happens… you get my soul too."

Death ground his teeth together in thought. "Not as sweet a deal as you'd think, Simon. First of all, that's a half-demon sleeping over there, the first of her kind. There's a legal case going on as we speak to decide who gets that girl's soul, us or the Nightospherean Reapers. Been going on since the day she was born. And even if we do get her, it won't be for a long old while. She may look human, but she sure won't age like one, not once she hits her mid twenties. This isn't gonna be a deal I'll cash on any time soon."

Simon said nothing. This wasn't the first time he'd negotiated with a tough opponent. Granted, most of his previous haggling had been over historical artefacts, not souls, but the game was still the same, and the important thing Simon had picked up on, was that Death hadn't said no.

"How about I get back to you once the case is closed?" Death offered. "Won't be easy to protect that girl when another company has dibs on her death."

"One time offer, I'm afraid." Simon responded with a sly smile.

Death growled quietly. Eventually, he held out his right hand, without a word. Simon took it, and immediately felt a shiver run up his body from his toes.

"Simon Petrikov." Death announced formally. "Do you swear to forfeit your eternal life, the second Marceline Abadeer dies of old age?"

"I do." Simon responded, gruffly.

Suddenly, a golden band of light materialised around Death and Simon's hands, and converged on them, fading away as it made contact. Death loosened his grip, but Simon didn't let go.

"And Death, do you swear to fully utilise every power you have at your disposal to ensure Marceline's long life, regardless of your entitlement to her soul?" He demanded.

Death gritted his teeth. He had hoped Simon wouldn't have the nerve to add his own terms to an agreement with an all-powerful being. Of course Death hadn't mentioned that he had every right to.

"I do…" Death reluctantly accepted.

Another band of gold light enclosed on the two hands. Again, Death tried to release his hand, but Simon held on.

"And you recognise that, should Marceline… die…" Simon choked on the word like he was having trouble saying it. "…by any other means, then this contract is void?"

"Yes!" Death snapped, and a third golden band followed the example of the last two. "Are there any more conditions?" Death demanded, testily.

"That's all." Simon smiled.

"Then we're agreed?"

"Agreed."

Simon and Death shook hands and, with a flash of white light, Simon was left alone, standing in the campsite, with an unlit fire.

* * *

**Does it seem like Death is overly eager for Simon's soul? If you ask me, I think he hates immortal people, I know I would if I were Death. Also, I trust you'll all get what I was referencing with the magical handshake agreement thing.**


	3. Cold Blood and Fangs

Cold Blood and Fangs

**So apparently there was some uncertainty over this in the last chapter. I'm assuming Marceline isn't immortal pre-vampire, just has a really long lifespan, since she got really old in Finn the Human. I figure if she can age, she can die, otherwise she'll just wind up as a giant face in a jar on New Earth 10 billion years later...**

* * *

"Ok, you're sure you're ready for this?"

Marceline sighed. "Yes, Simon! I have been for years now. You sure you are?" She added with a smirk.

Marceline and Simon stood outside a derelict campervan, underneath a bridge, in the heart of a vast city. Abandoned cars and rubble piled high around them, and made the place difficult to access for any green slime creature, which just happened to be passing by. Even though they liked to keep on the move, the two of them had made the place their campsite for over two months now, for that very reason.

Almost four years had passed since Simon's bargain with Death, and today was Marceline's twentieth birthday. Not her actual birthday of course, neither of them knew when that was, since Marceline's home dimension had no sun and, as such, no years. But every year, Simon and Marceline would celebrate the day they met, and call it a birthday for her. Marceline had asked Simon when his birthday was, but after telling her, Simon had calmly explained that birthdays were boring for "old geezers" like him, since he'd had so many of them.

While he usually made a little extra effort to scavenge something he thought Marceline would like, like a new toy, or some clothes, this year, Simon was going to do something special. He was going to let Marceline go off exploring on her own.

In the thirteen years since Marceline and Simon had met, they had never once been beyond earshot of one another. And while Marceline had been ready for such a responsibility for a few years now, she had never even suggested it before. Otherwise Simon probably would have grudgingly accepted. The truth was, Marceline had never wanted space away from Simon simply because they had never fallen out like normal girls would have fallen out with their parents. She never wanted to wear clothes Simon disapproved of, she had no reason to want to stay out all night and she had never had a boyfriend for him to dislike.

Still, Simon had suggested the idea. While he knew without doubt that he would always be around to protect Marceline, he thought it was a freedom Marceline needed to have, in order to grow up. He had every faith in her as a survivor. In fact, during recent creature incursions, it had been Marceline who saved Simon's skin, or so she thought. Simon was yet to tell her about his newfound immortality, for fear of making her worry that the crown was still affecting him, not to mention the way she'd react to Simon's deal with Death.

"So, you've got your crowbar? Your rope? Your walky-talky?" Simon listed various survival tools, which Marceline had stored in a large backpack she was wearing.

Marceline giggled. "Geez Simon, relax! I'll be fine! What are _you_ gonna do while I'm gone, anyway?"

"Oh, I'll probably go to the park, see if I can find that bird I fed the other day, see if she wants to hang." Simon answered, semi-seriously. Truthfully, he hadn't given it much thought. It was more likely he'd just stay at the camp and wait, in case Marceline came back, needing help.

Marceline smiled, and a second later, walked into the caravan. She came out, holding an old teddy bear, with several patches holding in its stuffing. She threw it to Simon to catch.

"Here. In case the bird stands you up. You can keep Hambo company."

Smiling back, Simon stepped forward and hugged Marceline. "Have a fun adventure, sweetheart."

"Thanks Simon."

After stepping back from the hug, Marceline turned around, climbed over the wreckage that made the camp's barricade, and set off into the city.

* * *

Marceline strolled down a ruined street with a smile on her face. While she loved Simon's company more than anything, the uplifting sense of freedom she felt while being on her own was completely unexpected.

While the vastness of the city meant she didn't have a complete mental map of it yet, there was a sizable chunk of it, which Marceline and Simon had explored and considered relatively safe. They had even taken to assigning names to certain areas, which were mostly just crude descriptions, such as "Street With Leaning Over Building." And "Park With Twisty Tree."

Marceline wandered around absent-mindedly, making sure she didn't stray into the unmapped areas of the city. Eventually, her eyes fell upon something that made her instinctively drop to the ground and crawl for cover.

One of the creatures had waddled out from behind a building, up ahead of her. Marceline looked through the bare window frame of a car as it crossed the road. She and Simon had spent a great deal of time studying the behaviour of the creatures. She even had a journal they had written together, stored in her backpack. Marceline could tell that this one wasn't a part of a group, if it was, its partners wouldn't be more than a few feet away from it. The ones that travelled together, _really_ travelled together.

Wondering what she should do, Marceline pictured Simon, crouching behind the car, next to her.

"Let's just wait until it passes, no sense in aggravating it." She could almost hear him whispering.

Marceline thought of doing just that, and then a mischievous grin spread across her face as she realised Simon wasn't there. She looked around, and her eyes fell upon a fallen tree branch, small enough for Marceline to hold in one hand, but still heavy enough to pack quite a punch. Seizing the branch, Marceline jumped up on top of the car, stood up straight and pushed her chest out like a superhero. She beckoned the slime creature with a sharp whistle. The creature turned its head and, with a focused gurgling noise, began to run, unsteadily, towards her.

Marceline's heart pounded in her chest as she bent her knees and clutched the tree branch harder. Once it was close enough, she leapt from the car, swung the branch over her head and brought it crashing down on the creature's soft, squishy head.

It collapsed to the ground and lay still. Marceline jumped back as it's liquid contents began to leak across the ground. She and Simon had discovered the hard way, that the liquid was corrosive. Simon had once punched one, and then startled Marceline by screaming, and using up a week's worth of water, trying to get the slime off his hand.

Marceline began to giggle, and then laugh as she thought of how little Simon would have approved of what she had just done. She knew that Simon's rules were there to protect her, and she happened to agree with all of them. But rebellion gave Marceline an unexpected adrenaline rush. Not so much that she'd defy Simon to his face, but it did make her realise, this was something she should have done years ago.

With a grin on her face, Marceline continued down the road, twirling the branch around her hand like a baton. She walked five steps, before she stopped and arched her back in shock, like a cat faced with a loud noise. With no warning, another goo creature had flown from above her and landed, with a squelch, at her feet. While it picked itself up, Marceline spun around to see where it had come from, just in time to see a black figure, 10 stories up, disappear behind a building.

Although confused, Marceline knew to prioritise. She spun around, swinging the branch as she did, smashing it into the side of the goo creature's head, before it had a chance to attack. Before she could rest or get her bearings, three more splats alerted Marceline to a fresh triad of creatures, hitting the ground behind her. She rounded on the creatures just in time to see the same figure vanishing down another alleyway, high in the air. She had a better look that time… It was a _human_!

"Hey!" Marceline called, angrily, as she backed away from the advancing creatures. "Show yourself!" She demanded.

When the floating person failed to respond, she returned her attention to the slime creatures.

As they advanced, Marceline scanned the area and noticed a fist-sized chunk of tarmac at her feet. Thinking of when Simon had taught her how to play baseball, Marceline rolled it onto the top of her foot, flicked it into the air and struck it with her tree branch, sending it flying like a bullet, clean between the central creature's eyes.

As it fell to the ground, Marceline stepped forwards and drove her branch through another creature's open mouth and out the back of its head. She was just about to withdraw it, when she realised with a start, that it was still alive! It continued to ease itself forwards, along the branch. Well… that was certainly one for the journal. Getting over her shock, Marceline lifted the creature into the air by the branch and brought it crashing down on the third, reducing them both to unidentifiable sludge.

Marceline let go of the branch and gave a hiss-like scream as the green slime splashed her hands and clothes. She rubber her hands on her jeans as they began to burn and itch.

"Dang babe…" A quiet voice came from above Marceline. "You could be, like, 'the one'."

Marceline jumped and looked up. The figure she had seen earlier floated serenely above her, as if hung from invisible puppet strings.

With only herself and Simon to compare the person to, Marceline had difficulty identifying him, through a black hoodie he was wearing which covered most of his face, but she guessed it was a boy, around her age, based on his posture, complexion and voice. As well as the hoodie, he wore blue jeans and trainers, and in each of his gloved hands, he held another creature, by the folds of skin on top of its head. They writhed their limbs and moaned pathetically.

"Who are you?" Marceline asked quietly, almost saying '_What_ are you?' instead. Although an equally good question, it didn't seem very polite.

A range of emotions boiled inside her. She felt like she should be happy that someone else survived the Mushroom War, but the boy's unsupported levitation sent shivers up her spine, plus the fact that he was holding toxic creatures like they were puppies, and there was the part where he had tried to kill her for no reason.

Without answering, the boy swung his arms back and hurled both creatures at Marceline, one after the other. Without missing a beat, Marceline leant to one side, avoiding the first creature, and then sent the second careening past her with impressive spinning kick, taking care to hit the side opposite to the one with the acid-spewing orifices.

By this point the boy was laughing. "That's not bad!" He complimented Marceline.

The young half-demon was less than flattered. In fact she was fuming. She looked around for anything she could throw to cause as much pain to the floating freak as possible, and her eyes fell upon a car license plate, lying a foot away from her. She looked up at the boy and made eye contact with him. He had noticed it too. His eyes challenged Marceline. Dared her to make a move.

In a flash, Marceline dived for the plate. She took her eyes off the boy and put her hand on it, but as soon as she touched it, a trainered foot stamped down on her hand. As she cried in pain, the boy used his other foot to deliver a powerful kick to her forehead.

Marceline's head span and, as she was distracted by the throbbing pain in her hand and head, the boy shot behind her, wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her to her feet. Marceline struggled to breathe under the boy's iron grip.

"You're impressive." The boy said, matter-of-factly. "I mean, you're no vampire, but we'll soon fix that." His voice told Marceline he was grinning wickedly.

"There's no such thing as vampires!" Marceline choked, angrily.

As she said the words, she realised how foolish they probably were. Super strength. Flying. A hoodie and gloves that protected him from the sun. Simon had made it very clear to Marceline that vampires weren't real when she had favoured a book about them when she was a child. Could it be that he had been wrong?

"I disagree." The boy said calmly.

"Who are you? And what do you mean 'I could be the one'?" Marceline demanded.

The boy snorted. "Babe, you're in no position to demand answers."

"_Marceline_." She corrected. "And we'll soon fix that." She jeered.

Marceline thrust her head back, violently head butting the boy in the face. As he let go of Marceline and stumbled backwards, screaming in pain, Marceline spun around, grabbed a handful of his hair through his hood, and then, putting all her weight behind her arm, slammed his head, face-first, into the road. She pressed her forearm down on the back of his neck, preventing him from getting up.

"Who are you?" Marceline repeated, testily.

The boy struggled for a few seconds, before giving up and slumping onto the ground.

"Connor." He growled, and then followed up with, "Vampire!" Before Marceline could ask _what_ he was.

She paused, not sure of how to respond to that. Vampires were real? Even when pinning one down, she had trouble believing it. She hesitated for a few seconds, trying to think of a follow-up question. Fortunately, Connor broke the ice for her.

"BORIS! HELP ME!" He cried.

Panicking, Marceline pushed on the back of his head, muffling his voice against the tarmac. She looked around for this 'Boris', unsure if she could handle _two_ vampires. She felt her walky-talky pressing against her thigh, inside her pocket. She was sure Simon would know what to do, but the last thing she wanted to do was call him for help on her first solo adventure. She wanted him to feel like he could trust her…

As Connor felt Marceline's grip weakening, due to her distraction, he forced himself into the air. Marceline snapped back to attention and wrapped her arms around his neck and furiously kicked his torso as the two of them rose unsteadily off the ground, like a deflated balloon. Connor struggled against Marceline, trying to push her off him. As Marceline noticed them getting continuously higher, she decided to cut her losses and let go, while she could still do so without hurting herself.

Landing nimbly on the ground, Marceline broke into a sprint, she had just decided that she definitely didn't want to try her luck against two vampires. And if she was going to run, she risked leading them back to Simon anyway. She swallowed her pride and pulled out her walky-talky.

"Hi Simon, my day's going pretty well…" She lied, nervously. "It's been kinda weird, I met this guy who was still alive… Kinda…"

Marceline ducked into an alleyway in an attempt to escape Connor, and came face to face with a second floating man. This one was in his thirties, wore a pair of jeans and a smart jacket, and shielded himself from the sun with a wide-brimmed stetson. He was a lot less scrawny than Connor and sported a menacing pair of sideburns.

"Marceline!?" Simon's voice came from the walky-talky, as the vampire Marceline presumed to be Boris, stared her down.

"I'M BEING ATTACKED BY VAMPIRES! SAVE ME!" Marceline cried, quickly.

She dropped the walky-talky and scrambled backwards, as Boris swiped his arms forwards in an attempt to grab her shoulders. She spun around to run but missed her footing and collapsed on the ground. She crawled backwards desperately, ashamed to be wishing that Simon would swoop in and save her.

Boris floated forwards eerily, with an evil sneer on his face. As he bore his arms back, like a lion, about to pounce, Marceline flinched in fear, covering her face. She waited… for the hands on her shoulders… the fangs in her neck? But neither came. What did come, was a muffled scream, and a voice that sounded like it was coming through a pillow.

"What is this stuff!? CONNOR!"

Marceline opened her eyes carefully. Boris was writhing back and forth in the air, slamming into the walls of the alleyway, trying to pry off what appeared to be a thick layer of pink rubber that seemed to have glued the rim of his hat to his face. With a splat, two more lumps of the pink substance fell from above and hit the ground, and a third one hit Boris' face again, sticking down his hands.

Marceline looked up. At the top of the alleyway, strung between the two buildings like a spider's web, was the familiar, gelatinous pink substance she and Simon had discovered so many years ago. She looked back at Boris, and jumped at what she saw. Three dark purple patches had formed on the glob he was trying to separate from his face and hands, and they arranged themselves, to form a grinning face. Although surprised, Marceline wasn't creeped out by what she saw. If anything, the face appeared child-like and cheerful.

Just like Simon had taught her, Marceline chose to save herself and, if she could, explore her new discovery later. She climbed to her feet and ran from the alleyway and back into the street, but as soon as she did, she ran straight into Connor, flying towards her in response to Boris' call.

"Ugh! Get away from me you creep!" Marceline snapped. Although Boris had frightened Marceline with his menacing demeanour, Connor was just beginning to get on her nerves.

She pushed him backwards, forcefully, and ran towards the campsite. But turning her back on Connor turned out to be a bad idea. He hit her like a cannon, tackling her waist and sending them both rolling across the ground. Marceline heard a gasp of pain and a brief sizzling sound as Connor's face was briefly exposed to the sunlight.

Marceline drove her elbow back at Connor as she struggled to free herself. She was still undecided about just killing him. She was sure she could if she found another tree branch to stake him with, but she wasn't sure if it was right. This wasn't like killing a goo creature when she wasn't supposed to. She really needed to talk to Simon…

Before Marceline could stand up again, Connor jumped at her for a final time, wrapping one arm around her neck, and with the other, placing a cloth over Marceline's mouth, which had a strong chemical smell. Marceline tried to resist, but her limbs had suddenly become heavy. Her eyelids drooped as she felt her energy drain from her body. Despite her strong desire to get back up and run, Marceline's vision blurred and everything went black.


End file.
